


Throughout the Years

by secondaryfrogpad



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Age Progression Fic, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, M/M, More tags to be added, aroflux/asexual!newt, from when they're 6 til they're 26, greyromantic/bisexual!thomas, ish, more characters to be added possibly?, number of chapters may change slightly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-04-30 22:22:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5181836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secondaryfrogpad/pseuds/secondaryfrogpad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas and Newt meet when they are six years old, and become instant friends. This is them throughout the years of being children, teenagers, and young adults. How they cope with life, themselves, and most importantly, how they help each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Throughout the Years

When Thomas first met Newt, he thought the sky was falling. And, well, in a way, he was right.

The angry, roiling black and purple clouds that had smothered the sky over the course of the past few hours obliterated any sunshine being cast on the earth. Thomas was scared. His mom and dad were both at work, and though Aris was physically inside the house, he was eleven, and therefore too cool to be hanging out with whiny six-year-old brothers. So Thomas felt alone. He gazed anxiously at the enormous storm that was thundering viciously. The lack of sunlight was barely noticeable when white-hot and blinding bolts of lightning illuminated the sky every few seconds. Never in his whole life of residence in Phoenix had Thomas seen storm clouds this intimidating - usually he was lucky to see rain at all. Yet, here they were, fast-moving and so close to the ground the thunder shook the window panes and the dishes in the cabinet he wasn’t allowed to open. Thomas didn’t understand what was so special about plates made in China - after all, the phrase was on half his own toys, and his parents didn’t seem to care so much about those - but he remembered his mom’s expression when Aris tried to use one as a Frisbee once.

He was content with leaving the plates alone.

The wind picked up; a giant hand ran right through the hair that he had spent so much time neatly combing that morning. The smell of wet concrete permeated the moist, electric air, and Thomas had the sudden notion that maybe it was a bad idea to be out on the veranda in weather like this, but curiosity won him over. He frowned, tapping nervously against the post that interrupted the railing around the porch. What if there was so much rain he died? What if this was the end of the world? Something had to be wrong. He’d heard more thunder in the past ten minutes than during the rest of his life combined. What if Mom and Dad couldn’t drive their cars back because there was so much rain and he and Aris got stuck there on their own?

He huffed and clenched his fist. He shouldn’t be scared. It was just a little rain after all, it’s not like it would grow teeth and bite him. His Mama always told him that the monsters under his bed were more scared of him than he was of them. He just had be nice to them, and they’d see there was no reason to growl at him.

Somehow, Thomas didn’t think that applied to the rain.

“Oi, you alright there?”

A voice called out to Thomas from the house over. About ten feet of reckless and poorly mowed Bermuda grass separated their gallery railings, but Thomas could see the boy clear as day. He was short and skinny, kind of like him, and had curly blond hair that had clearly been ruffled by the gales blowing through as well. He wore a pale yellow t-shirt stained with what looked like fruit punch, and a pair of khaki cargo shorts, shoes forgone. Thomas had never seen the kid around before, and figured he must have been part of the ‘moved family’ Thomas’s parents had mentioned.

“What kind of a word is ‘oi’?” Thomas asked, marching over to the left-side railing so he could talk to the kid easier. “And who are you?”

The blond stepped up onto a plastic lawn chair resting on the right of his porch and swung his legs over the top of the railing so he could sit on the edge of it. He answered, “Don’t you know what ‘oi’ means? I’m Newt.”

Newt’s voice sounded weird and round, but Thomas didn’t say anything in case that wasn’t considered nice. Thomas didn’t have a chair to climb up on, and he knew he was too short to lift himself up without one. He said, “The Swedish chairs in my house are too heavy to move. But I can balance on the fence too. I’m Thomas.”

“What kind of chairs are Swedish chairs?” Newt demanded, scrunching up his nose, perplexed. “Sounds like Swedish fish. That’s my favorite candy. But I’ve never seen them sell chair ones before.”

Thomas gave Newt an almost accusatory look. “You _like_ Swedish fish? They’re so gross!”

“At least Swedish fish don’t have giant peanuts in them, like those Snicket candies, or whatever,” Newt argued. “They’re _horrible_. Swedish fish are nice. And chewy. And no surprises.”

Light drops of rain began to sprinkle the ground, but Thomas took no notice. He wasn’t nearly as nervous anymore. After all, if this kid was outside it couldn’t be too bad, right?

“I think you mean Snickers,” Thomas corrected. “But whatever. When Halloween comes around we should trade! My Swedish fish for your Snickers.”

“Sure,” Newt said. “Hey, do you want to come inside? Mum’s making grilled cheese. And she said I should try and make friends. You seem okay.”

Thomas wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not, but grilled cheese sounded good, and then he wouldn’t be alone in the storm.

“Alright,” Thomas agreed. “But only if you have dinosaurs.”

Newt rolled his eyes, which reminded Thomas of Aris, who was constantly told off for doing so, and then said, “I only have the _best_ dinosaurs of course. Come on.”

Thomas rounded the veranda railing and followed Newt into the house that would become a second home to him over the next several years, bits and pieces of speech - “What’s your favorite? Mine’s apatosaurus.” - trailing behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> first chapter! i published a one shot two(?) days ago, and now this, but i don't write that fast - this has been in the works for a few weeks whilst i thought about it. it's all outlined, i just have to put the pen to paper, so to speak. this chapter is relatively short, but i thought it wrapped up nicely. please leave a comment!! i would love feedback about anything, but especially the kid point-of-view aspect; i always want to improve :)
> 
> by the way, when thomas says 'Swedish chairs' he means suede haha.


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